


Shades of Dark

by Cat2000



Series: Seeking Life [9]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Addiction, Blood and Torture, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Male Slash, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/pseuds/Cat2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic</p><p>Summary: Follows Birthday Gift. Slade and Oliver's relationship hits a major snag, with conflicts both generated within and without</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the first two series of Arrow; AU; descriptions of torture in later chapters; themes of addiction; explicit sexual scenes between two men
> 
> Pairing: Slade Wilson/Oliver Queen

Oliver wasn't sure he should have been as turned on by Slade dominating him as he had been. He wasn't even sure he should have let things go as far between them as they had... because it was supposed to be about Slade receiving pleasure... and his lover had turned it around on him.

 

And now, it was two weeks later... and apart from calls and texts, Oliver and Slade hadn't communicated much. Oliver had found himself too involved with his company's work. The underworld of the city had been suspiciously quiet. Oliver wasn't sure what Slade had been doing. After the response he'd received to his suggestion about going on an actual date, Oliver had been hesitant about making any similar suggestions.

 

It wasn't that he was nervous. Slade clearly wasn't ready for them to go public. Oliver wasn't sure _he_ should be, not really, but he knew how he felt about Slade and how much he looked to the other man. He was pleased they were exclusive, of course, but he didn't want to keep hiding this. Not when there was so much about himself that he had to hide right now.

 

Oliver hadn't worried about calling ahead to tell Slade he was coming. If his lover wasn't at the apartment, Oliver knew he could let himself in and wait for Slade. It was one of the understandings between them.

 

Oliver stood outside Slade's apartment, holding a bottle of whiskey. He found that his mind was calm. He was aware in a general sense... but he didn't have to be on his guard around Slade; especially not on a personal level.

 

Oliver reached out and pressed the buzzer.

 

There was silence for maybe half a second and then Oliver heard movement from inside the apartment. Then, a moment later, there was the sound of the door being unbolted. It was opened and Slade stood framed there.

 

Oliver wasn't sure how to put into words exactly what seeing Slade felt like... but perhaps the wide smile was some indication as he held up the bottle of whiskey. "Figured we could do with a night in."

 

The smile that touched Slade's lips was faint, but it was still there. He stepped back from the door. "Come on in."

 

Oliver stepped into the house, nudging the door closed behind him. Meeting Slade's gaze, he held up the bottle of whiskey. "Decanters?"

 

"I wonder if it should bother me that you seem to think I don't have any good whiskey." Slade walked through to the living room.

 

"Hey, I can't just turn up unannounced without a gift or something. And I know you're trying to keep a low profile." Oliver followed Slade into the room. "Can't be too easy to find work right now. My offer still stands."

 

"I don't need you to give me a job."

 

If Oliver hadn't been able to read Slade so well, he would have assumed his lover was irritated with him at best. As it was, Slade's gruff tones reminded him of the time they'd spent on the island... when they'd been friends and before things had changed so drastically between them.

 

Pushing away those memories (because the Slade under the influence of the mirakuru wasn't the same Slade Oliver had become to dependent on), Oliver stepped over to the glass cabinet and took out two decanters. As he poured them a measure of whiskey each, he spoke in a casual tone. "I was thinking... we don't get to see much of each other, apart from a few snatches here and there. It might be a good idea to combine our living spaces. You know... move in together." Oliver picked up one of the decanters and held it out to Slade, watching the other man carefully.

 

Taking the decanter, Slade took a long swallow, his eyes never leaving Oliver. "Are you suggesting you move in here? Or that I move into the Queen mansion?"

 

Oliver knew how to read Slade. He didn't think Slade was against the idea of them moving in together... but he was almost certain his lover wasn't at all comfortable with the idea of moving into the Queen mansion.

 

There was a reason why Oliver always came to Slade.

 

"We don't have to live in either," Oliver said. "If you'd prefer, we can move to another place entirely. We don't have to decide straight away, but it seems to make sense. To me, anyway."

 

"Hm." Slade drained the last of his whiskey and drew in a breath.

 

Oliver found his attention drawn to the clock on the mantelpiece. It was an old-fashioned wind-up clock... and it had also stopped. Guessing that Slade hadn't noticed the lack of movement, Oliver reached out to pick up the clock.

 

Oliver's movements was arrested by a hand closing around his wrist. If he hadn't known that Slade was the only other one there, Oliver would have pulled away and knocked the other person to the ground. As it was, he turned to Slade... in time for the other man's lips to crash against his.

 

Oliver couldn't help but respond. It had been that way since the first time. He felt Slade's hand shift to the nape of his neck, gently stroking down over Oliver's spine. Despite the touch being gentle, Slade's hand was callused and pressed on muscles Oliver had barely realised were tense.

 

Oliver stepped closer to Slade, raising his hand and sliding it up under Slade's shirt. He scratched lightly over his lover's bare chest and then slowly, reluctantly, pulled back. He knew Slade was trying to distract him and as he met his lover's gaze, he could see that Slade knew what he'd realised.

 

"What don't you want me to see?" Oliver asked.

 

"You're not going to like it," Slade warned.

 

Oliver took a deep breath then, feeling his anxiety beginning to rocket. "I guessed that. You wouldn't be trying to distract me from something I'd be happy about."

 

Slade nodded, clearly conceding the point. He walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up the clock, taking a vial of liquid that he must have stashed there.

 

Oliver stiffened, thinking of addicts and how they hid the substance they were addicted to. The liquid looked familiar... _too_ familiar. "Is that mirakuru?" It was phrased as a question, but Oliver heard the note of certainty in his own voice.

 

An unreadable look passed across Slade's face as he met Oliver's eyes without flinching. "It's not what you think."

 

"What _do_ I think, Slade?" Oliver asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Enlighten me."

 

Slade put the vial down... which _wasn't_ what Slade wanted. He wanted the contents entirely gone; not sitting within easy reach of his lover.

 

"I'm not going to use it." Slade's voice was quiet, but still carried a note of sincerity.

 

Oliver shook his head, not bothering to even _try_ to hide his disbelief. "How can I believe that?"

 

"You _know_ what I became under the influence of the mirakuru, Oliver. Do you really think you wouldn't notice if I started using again?"

 

"Not if you were only using small amounts... just enough to take the edge off."

 

"I know I can't expect you to believe me," Slade said. "But I haven't been taking the mirakuru. That isn't why I still have it."

 

Oliver shifted. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he knew that he couldn't stay here. Not if he didn't want to tear emotionally into his lover.

 

Slade must have realised; whether from the look on Oliver's face, or from the movements as Oliver prepared to walk out. A look of defeat came over his face for a second and then he was holding his hand out to Oliver. For once, he wasn't hiding behind a mask... and the pain on his face was obvious. "Oliver... _please_ don't leave."

 

Slade saying please was as rare as Oliver doing so. It was that, along with the raw pain on Slade's face, that caused Oliver to stay where he was. "I don't understand why you still have it, knowing what it did to you. Knowing what it made you become."

 

"That's exactly _why_ I have it," Slade said. "I accept that keeping it secret from you was wrong, but I still have it to remind myself of how far I can fall... of how much I hurt you in the past and how much I'll give to make sure it _never_ happens again." Slade stepped closer to Oliver, though he stopped before his outstretched hand touched him. "I realise I went about it the wrong way, but I'm asking you... don't give up on me. You didn't when I was at my worst, so don't... please... for a mistake."

 

Oliver knew he couldn't just walk out and leave Slade... not after what the other man had just admitted. At the same time, though, Oliver knew he couldn't just let this pass. No matter _what_ Slade's reasoning was, he shouldn't have hidden the vial.

 

Taking a deep breath, Oliver stepped closer to Slade, moving right into his lover's personal space. Without hesitating, he wrapped his arms around Slade in a tight embrace.

 

Slade wrapped his arms just as tight around Oliver in return.

 

Oliver found himself a bit reluctant to let go of Slade so he could deal with this. Not after seeing his lover's emotional vulnerability. At the same time, he knew that this wasn't something he could just ignore... that Slade would expect him to respond in the same way he would if Oliver had done something similar.

 

Oliver held Slade tight a few more moments, allowing the other man to calm down from the emotions that had hit him. He didn't say anything until he felt Slade's death grip on him loosen and then he took a step back, enough so that he could press a kiss to Slade's lips before he stepped over to the couch, knowing his lover would follow.

 

Oliver sat down on the couch, still feeling a bit unsure. There was no doubt in his mind that Slade needed to be punished. Quite apart from how much his actions had hurt Oliver... hiding things like this set a precedent for their relationship he was certain neither of them wanted. When he glanced at Slade, he could tell his lover was waiting for direction. Holding eye contact, he held his hand out.

 

Slade moved closer to Oliver, but didn't take his hand. Instead, he stopped at Oliver's side and placed himself over his lap.

 

Oliver placed a hand on Slade's back. He knew he didn't have to hold his lover in place, but he thought he understood why Slade did that when their positions were reversed.

 

Slade clearly hadn't intended to leave his apartment. He was wearing a pair of loose-fitting pants and Oliver slipped his fingers into the waistband, tugging them down to bare Slade's backside.

 

Slade shifted a little, but didn't voice a protest. Oliver wasn't sure if his lover would try to get lost in his own head like he had the last time... but Oliver was determined not to give Slade the opportunity.

 

Lifting his hand, Oliver brought it down in a hard smack in the centre of Slade's backside. He didn't hesitate before landing another one... this time to the crest. He felt Slade jerk, but he continued to swat in the same way, making it impossible to predict where the next smack would fall.

 

Slade twitched with each subsequent smack, but Oliver could tell the pain alone wasn't going to get through to him. Not this time... not even with the emotions that had affected him so strongly.

 

Oliver began swatting a bit harder and faster; though he still kept delivering them in random places all over Slade's backside. He spoke quietly as he did so. "You should never have hidden it from me, Slade. I understand needing to face your demons. I've got enough of my own to face, believe me. But the mirakuru is not something you should keep. It isn't something you should allow to control yourself. Just like a recovering alcoholic shouldn't be keeping bottles of alcohol to give them strength."

 

"So... I should... take my strength from you?" Although Slade's voice was strained, there was a note of what seemed almost like hope in his voice.

 

"Better me than what almost destroyed you."

 

Slade made a sound that might have been a cry. "It almost destroyed you. _I_ almost destroyed you."

 

"You didn't. You said I hadn't given up on you even when I saw you at your worst." Oliver lifted his leg, exposing Slade's sit spots, and began delivering the sharper swats there yet. "Did you ever stop to think that it was the other way round as well? You gave me what I needed to survive. Then and now."

 

Oliver didn't know if it was his words, or the spanking, or some combination of both... but he felt Slade slump over his lap. He caught the sound of his lover's quiet tears and helped Slade up, wrapping his arms around the other man and kissing him hard.

 

Slade returned the kiss fiercely and Oliver could taste the salt of his tears on his tongue. Leaning forward, he deepened the kiss,

 

He wanted to move them upstairs... but then, his cell phone rang. Oliver pulled away reluctantly, answering his phone... and then he went very still.

 

"What is it?" Slade asked.

 

Oliver focused on his lover. "Your son's been kidnapped."

 

** To be continued... **


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic
> 
> Summary: Follows Birthday Gift. Slade and Oliver's relationship hits a major snag, with conflicts both generated within and without

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): AU; violence; some references to torture; spoilers for the first two seasons of Arrow
> 
> Pairing: Slade Wilson/Oliver Queen
> 
> Author's Note: I will apologise to anyone who's been waiting for this story to be continued. I know it's been a long time since I've continued this, but I lost inspiration for quite a while. I'm hoping that there will be a much shorter amount of time between chapters from now on.

Slade didn't often feel as close to breaking point as this... but he was only holding onto his patience with iron control. If it weren't for Oliver, he would have gone tearing off without a plan... without backup... without...

 

Felicity broke into Slade's mental tirade, looking up from her computer screen... though it was Oliver she was addressing her comments to. "There's nothing on any of the news feeds."

 

"There wouldn't be." A dull pain in his palms encouraged Slade to unclench his fists, before his nails drew more blood. He didn't look at Oliver... _couldn't_ look at his lover. In some ways, it was a relief Oliver held the mirakuru. Because if Oliver _hadn't_ found it, Slade wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from taking it.

 

"Slade."

 

Slade's gaze was drawn to Oliver. "Yeah." It was barely an acknowledgement.

 

"We're going to find him."

 

"Can you think of any enemies you have who might stoop to kidnapping your son?" Diggle asked.

 

"I can think of plenty who would only be stopped by the amount of security surrounding him." Slade could hear there was no inflection in his voice. He could _feel_ the tension in his own body. He didn't want to stand around talking. All he wanted was to get his son back. But he forced himself to continue; forced himself to cooperate with... well, Oliver was the only person who he considered anything like a friend. The others were uneasy allies at best. "Just the list of _my_ enemies alone is extensive."

 

"But we can't rule out that someone's targeted him because they know _we're_ allies now," Oliver said.

 

Diggle snorted. "Is that what they're calling it?"

 

It felt like the walls were closing in on Slade. He wanted to hunt down the bastard who'd taken his son... wanted to _make him pay_. With no idea of where to go, all he could think was this was _his_ fault. Maybe, if he'd been strong enough to bring Joe to him...

 

A hand on his arm alerted Slade to Oliver in his personal space. He took a step back, unable to face being touched when he'd failed so strongly. When he looked at Oliver, he couldn't tell how pulling away had affected the other man... but as he spoke, he kept an iron control over his voice; so his words came out gruffer than he'd intended. "I can't stay here." The weakest part of him wanted to ask Oliver to give him the mirakuru... so he would stop feeling that pain.

 

He despised that part of him.

 

Oliver nodded. "I'll go with you."

 

"I'm not going to do anything stupid." Slade almost winced at the words... how flat his voice sounded. Even without the mirrakuru, he knew he was reverting to old training; closing himself off emotionally, because the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

 

"I know." Oliver didn't voice the words _because you don't know where he is..._ but Slade heard them anyway. Holding eye contact with him, Oliver continued, "But going out, _alone_ and in physical view, you could be a target. If you trust me enough to have your back... _let me have your back_."

 

The intensity in Oliver's voice washed over Slade. He didn't know how to reply to that, but he was saved from having to respond by Diggle clearing his throat.

 

"I'll go with you." Diggle stood, nodding to Oliver.

 

Slade turned his back, not willing to let either Oliver or Diggle see his emotional state. He didn't want to see the pity on their faces.

 

"I'll just... stay here, then."

 

Slade thought Oliver paused to respond to Felicity, but he was already walking, moving towards the exit and out into the cold air, which hit him in the face, stinging his eye.

 

There were steps behind him and Slade glanced back over his shoulder, then moved aside to let Diggle step out onto the streets. "Did you persuade Oliver to stay behind with Felicity?"

 

"No one can persuade Oliver to do anything he doesn't want to." Diggle paused and then added, "The people watching your son were taken out."

 

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" It wasn't a surprise. An enemy willing to kidnap an innocent child wasn't going to balk at killing people who got in their way.

 

"They were interrogated."

 

Slade stared at the street opposite, his stomach turning over. Interrogation was the kindest word for torture. Worse, had they been tortured for information? Or for sadistic pleasure? "Was it done by professionals?"

 

"I didn't look at the bodies personally, but I had Felicity contact the morgue to request photos," Diggle replied. "The angle and the positioning of the wounds? I'd say it was the work of professionals."

 

Oliver's footsteps were soft, but Slade could hear him anyway and turned round. His lover paused next to him, though without touching. "We're going to find him."

 

"You said that already."

 

Oliver dropped his voice, quiet enough that Slade knew it wouldn't carry to Diggle. "I need you to wait and let me find out where he is and who's taken him."

 

"I'm not going to get myself killed. Joe needs me."

 

"I'm not talking about you getting yourself killed."

 

Slade focused on Oliver. "I know what you're worried about. Keep hold of the mirakuru, if you think I can't be trusted enough to make the right choice. But I need to go back to my apartment. I need to get in touch with my contacts and I need to do it alone. I don't need any distractions."

 

Oliver withdrew. Not physically, but emotionally... he was distant. "I'll call you. When I find out anything."

 

"Yeah." The word stuck in his throat as Slade began to walk away. His sense of self-loathing crushed him, but there was nothing else he could do.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic
> 
> Warning(s): Potentially triggering material (references to drug abuse and addiction); swearing

The mirakuru felt heavy in Oliver's pocket. _Too_ heavy. Slade had just made it clear he wasn't prepared to accept help... that he wanted to go it alone. Maybe he hadn't said that in so many words, but Oliver knew enough to read between the lines.

 

Diggle cleared his throat and Oliver looked at him. "Are you going to tell me again that he's a loose cannon? That I need to drop him, otherwise he'll drag me down?"

 

"No." The look of sympathy on Diggle's face was worse than anything else. "Don't get me wrong," he continued. "I trust you, Oliver. But I don't trust him. I don't think I ever will, even if he _does_ seem to keep you alive. But I can see, no matter how I feel about him as a person, his priority is his kid. And I can respect that."

 

Oliver didn't give real smiles very often now, but he felt the beginnings of one touch at his lips. "So I can count on you to have my back?"

 

"Of course. But I'm not going to hold hands in a peace circle or anything like that."

 

"Good to know." Oliver's phone vibrated in his pocket and he removed it, checking the display. It was an unknown number and he frowned, stepping away from Diggle as he activated his voice modulator. "Who is this?"

 

"Oliver Queen." The voice on the other end was pitched too low to make it easy to tell if the owner was male or female.

 

"You have me at a disadvantage." Oliver kept his voice cool and calm... although he wondered who was calling him on the Arrow's phone. Not many people knew his identity; thouh the number had grown from what it was. "You think you know who I am... who are you?"

 

"I'm not going to play games with you. I work with the organisation who now has Joe Slade."

 

Oliver narrowed his eyes, aware of Diggle coming up beside him... though he didn't turn to look at the other man. "You know I need to have proof he's alive. Patch me to a live video feed."

 

"So your team can work on my location?" There was silence, then an uttered, "Get the brat," to someone other than Oliver.

 

The next moment, a small, whimpering voice spoke. "...Hello...?"

 

"Joe? Are you hurt?" Oliver asked quickly.

 

"Where's my Dad?"

 

The note of fear in the boy's voice was obvious... but Oliver couldn't hear any hitches of pain or strain. "I'm a friend of your dad's," he said. "Make sure you do what they say... we're going to rescue you."

 

"I didn't realise just how much you cared, Oliver."

 

"What do you want?" Oliver concentrated on what the person was saying... but also on the background noises. If he could recognise any of the sounds, it was possible he'd be able to track where Joe was being held. And even as he was speaking, he was heading back inside... to Felicity, who was perhaps the only person he thought might be able to track the number... or, at the very least, access the recording of the conversation and filter any background noises through.

 

"You need to carry out a mission."

 

Oliver had to force himself to continue walking. He'd expected any possibility... but being told he needed to carry out a mission? "What kind of mission makes it necessary for you to kidnap a child?"

 

"This is your first instruction. Don't ask any questions."

 

"If I don't ask any questions, how am I going to complete this mission?"

 

Felicity glanced up as Oliver approached her. Her eyes widened, but she didn't speak. Oliver placed the phone in her hand, though not before putting the speaker on. Placing his finger to his lips (and ignoring her eye roll), he spoke again. "Are you who I'm supposed to be answering to? Or is there someone higher up the food chain?"

 

"You'll be called with the details at a later time. And Mr. Queen? I would advise you don't tell your... _friend_ about our arrangement."

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver could see Felicity gesturing wildly. He didn't allow his voice to change as he asked, "Why don't you want Slade to know about our arrangement?"

 

"You don't listen to instructions very well, do you, Mr. Queen? When we call back, you'd better have learned how to follow them. Or you won't get the boy back unless it's in pieces."

 

Oliver ground his teeth as the screen showed the call had been disconnected. He looked at Felicity. "Anything?"

 

"The location is too well-buried. I wouldn't have got close even if you'd kept them talking for an hour." Tapping at the keys, Felicity continued, "But I can run the recording through all the software I have available. If there are any background noises, I'll find them."

 

But the group would be professionals, considering how easily they'd snatched Joe. While it was possible they could have slipped up... made a mistake... Oliver knew he couldn't count on that.

 

"Are you going to tell Slade?" Diggle asked, from just behind Oliver.

 

"No. You heard what they said. I can't risk Joe's safety." Oliver sighed. "I'm going to have to make sure he doesn't find out." If they were on the island, even with Oliver's ability to deceive virtually everyone in his life, he knew he would never be able to keep something of this magnitude from Slade, with his sharp edges... unhaunted by the traces of guilt and failure.

 

"You can't keep this from him." Diggle's voice dropped lower, as if he thought Slade might return without warning. "He's not going to thank you for this."

 

"I'm not looking to be thanked." Oliver looked at Felicity. "See if you can get anything in the way of background noise. Text me with even the smallest thing you find."

 

"Where are you going?" Diggle asked.

 

"I'm going to see if Slade has learned anything from his contacts." Oliver didn't wait for a response before he was striding back to exit out onto the street.

 

**********************************************************************************************************

 

When Slade opened the door, it was nearly impossible to read the look on his face. Oliver wondered if his lover would send him away... but after a few moments of apparently battling indecision, Slade stepped back from the door.

 

"Anything?" Oliver asked, stepping into the apartment and nudging the door closed with his foot.

 

"I'm still waiting to hear back from some. It's a long game of waiting, kid. You have better things to do than play it with me."

 

Oliver frowned. "I wouldn't be anywhere else. You _need_ my help. Or you're going to get yourself killed. And I know you don't care about your safety for your own sake, but it needs to be a priority. For Joe, if nothing else."

 

"You're not saying anything I haven't said to myself. Why do you think I'm _here_ , instead of chasing down every possible lead? When all I want to do is _hunt down the bastards who took my son and get him back_."

 

Oliver could hear the anguish in Slade's voice... but he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help. If he could track down the kidnappers, he could act. When they called him again, he could act.

 

But Slade was right. The long game of waiting wasn't easy to play.

 

It didn't immediately occur to Oliver that he was watching Slade... searching for any signs of withdrawal symptoms, or a craving for the mirakuru. He didn't realise; not until he heard Slade sigh and then his lover walked to him, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

 

The gentleness was so unlike his lover, Oliver was taken aback... rendered momentarily speechless. He could handle rough. He knew how to deal with it. But _gentle_ affection?

 

"Kid..." Slade's voice was a mere breath against Oliver's ear. "I'm not safe to be around. If you stick with me, I'm just going to drag you down with me."

 

Oliver took a step back. "What are you saying?"

 

"I'm saying I can't expose you to the danger being close to me is going to bring." Slade closed his eyes, but just for a second. "We can work together, but that's as far as it can go. Whatever this is between us? It has to end."


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic
> 
> Warning(s): References to drug abuse and addiction; flashbacks to torture

There was a strange look on Oliver's face. Slade wasn't sure how to read it, but that wasn't unusual. It was harder to read the kid now. Oliver had a poker face to rival a master at cards.

 

"Should I leave?" Oliver asked.

 

"There isn't anything else to do. There's nowhere to go... and nothing I can do that wouldn't be foolish and dangerous." If he didn't need to be alert for when one of his contacts finally responded, he would have been headed to the nearest bar and downing as much alcohol as he could handle.

 

"Maybe I should rephrase that question. Do you _want_ me to leave?"

 

Slade closed his one good eye. The truth? No. He was selfish enough to want to _cling_ to the other man. But for as much of him that wanted to take comfort from Oliver, there was a larger part that knew his darkness would smother... would _suffocate_... anything good inside the younger man. "No. I don't want you to stay. You should... go to your friends. Go back to cleaning up the city. _I don't need you_."

 

For a second... the briefest instant... Slade thought Oliver would call him on his lies; that he could see how much forcing himself to say that had hurt. But then he nodded, closing his eyes for a second. "You'll probably want this back." He put something down on the table and then walked out.

 

Slade had done the right thing. He was certain of that; never mind the sharp, jagged pain piercing through him. He took several deep breaths, but although his eye was dry, he couldn't make it stop hurting.

 

It felt like a knife to his heart when he saw the bottle of mirakuru left on the table.

 

**********************************************************************************************************

 

_"What did you do to me?"_

_Slade moved behind the bound Oliver, tracing the mark on his back with a finger and feeling nothing as Oliver jerked beneath his touch. When he spoke, his voice sounded almost conversational. "In Ancient Rome, a criminal was branded with the sign of their crime, so they would always be reminded of what they'd done." Looking at the brand, he continued, "Shado had this tattoo on her back. Now you will_ never _forget what you've done."_

_"Ivo..."_

_Slade's teeth clenched, angered that the first word out of Oliver's mouth was an excuse. He pressed hard on the brand, but only heard a stifled gasp._

_He didn't want Oliver to be strong enough to ignore the pain. He wanted him crying... screaming..._ broken _. Maybe then he would be able to feel something other than cold numbness or anger._

_"Slade... please..."_

_There'd been a time Slade would have listened; a time he would have been the one to bind the kid's wounds, not cause them. But he_ wanted _Oliver to suffer. He wanted the other man to pay for what he'd done to Shado... to pay..._

_To be Slade's scapegoat for_ his _guilt._

Monster.

_The word swirled over and over inside Slade's mind, drowning out every other sound. He had to stop it... he had to cover the word with something else._

_And then the volts of electricity were going through Oliver... and Slade could hear him crying out... and it pushed his own horror and guilt down... back... all the way out..._

 

**********************************************************************************************************

 

Slade hadn't realised he'd fallen asleep... not until he woke with the word _monster_ in his head... along with the image of Oliver's tortured body.

 

Somehow, since whatever this was had developed between them, Slade hadn't thought about how he'd hurt the kid. It had always been there, at the back of his mind, but those memories had never taken hold when he and Oliver had been lovers.

 

Slade raised his head from the crook of his arm, closing his eye when he glimpsed the bottle of mirakuru. He'd fallen asleep staring at it... wondering if the payoff would be worth the cost to himself; to his _soul_.

 

 

But, of course, if he became the monster... even to save his son... it wouldn't just be him who suffered.

 

And yet he wasn't strong enough to toss the bottle in the trash.

 

Pushing the vial behind his laptop, where he didn't have to look at it, Slade opened his e-mails.

 

Nothing.

 

Closing his eye, Slade cursed quietly. He hadn't really expected any of his contacts to get back to him. Someone who knew his reputation and kidnapped his son anyway was either fearless... or stupid.

 

Sleeping hadn't helped, even without the reminder of the monster he'd been. Slade took out his phone and stared at it, _willing_ himself to call Oliver. Because even if he thought breaking up was the right thing to do, he needed to talk to the kid. He _needed_ to make sure Oliver was still safe.

 

The phone was to his ear and ringing before Slade made a conscious decision to make the call. After two rings, it was answered. "Oliver here."

 

"I wanted to check on you." Slade winced, able to hear how emotionally _needy_ he sounded. Oliver didn't respond, but he imagined what must be going through the kid's mind. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to sound more normal... more like himself. "Has anyone threatened you? Made contact?"

 

"Don't worry about me."

 

"You can't tell me not to worry." Slade stopped himself from pointing out he'd always cared about Oliver. Giving the kid mixed signals was just going to end in pain, no matter how emotionally strong Oliver purpoted to be. "I just need to be sure you're safe."

 

"If anything happens, I'll make sure you know."

 

As Slade was left listening to the silence, he wondered why he felt Oliver was lying.


End file.
